Request
by sdde
Summary: A collection about Kenpachi & Retsu, some connected some not. When two people are so different, and yet, their jobs demand their interaction a bond must form, this bond is always worthy of narration. PlsR&R/F /Made a forum to discuss pairing & ideas\
1. Request

**Request**

"I must say, I was surprised you agreed to this wager Zaraki-taichou," chimed the never changing polite female tone. Kenpachi merely hummed in feign insult at the comment on his personality, choosing to let the woman wait for his answer. She waited in perfect politeness, too perfect, annoying him as her omnipresent manners always did.

"I'm only surprised ya chose this game, _Retsu_." He grunted, emphasising her name, as he made his move. "Why not shogi? I keep hearin' the old man rant to his two golden boys about how much he beats 'em."

Retsu Unohana's simple smile remained undeterred by his informality and rudeness. Kenpachi could feel her eyes on him as he refused to look from the board, trying to guess the move she would make from what he knew of the rules.

"Yamamoto-sotaichou has his own preferences in pass times, but most, I hope, are separate to my own. However this is simply another culture's equivalent." She returned, her hand moving swiftly over the board and her move was made with what seemed to be no thought, frustrating him further since it showed he was offering her little challenge. "I will also remind you that both Kyoraku-taichou and Ukitake-taichou were his first students, it is only natural he treats them as s-."

"Golden boys." The brash brute tried to interrupt but the ever wise healer merely paused before finishing, in that same polite tone.

"-sons." Retsu finished letting herself examine the man opposite. He appeared completely unhindered by the injuries that she had finished healing for the day mere minutes ago. The barbarian captain had found himself a Vastelorde to play with and had had his 'best fight in a decade'. Today's list had been five cracked ribs another two broken, a fractured lumbar vertebra, three four-clawed slashes across his torso, a forth on his back and twenty single inch deep teeth marks along the right side of his collar bone, not to mention the several pints of blood. Those had been for her to heal, added for her to see was his widest ever grin. It was little wonder why some questioned whether or not he was a monster. She did not; she knew he wasn't. Her etiquette smile widened a slight fraction at the thought. "However, may I ask why you agreed to this wager Zaraki-taichou?"

Kenpachi acted as if he hadn't heard the question and continued his glare at the pieces on the board in front of him. Retsu acknowledged this surprising amount of concentration with a respectful, and curious, gaze and waited again for his answer.

Eventually he decided his action and moved the black marble carving at the centre of his attention. His eyes lifted, before his fingers left the piece, hoping to see a change in the perfect poker face. The widened smile threw him off and the inquisitive look didn't help, but he refused to be intimidated by what could only be called a friendly stare. He pulled back his hand and confirmed his move.

Kenpachi raised himself to sit straight, creating the need to look down into Retsu's eyes something that felt primarily wrong to him, with her. "Ain't it obvious? You agreed to 'take care' of Yachiru when she gets outta control for a month whether I win or lose. No matter what ya pick as a prize for when ya win can make this not worth while."

"I see," the woman replied, disappointed with the answer, "however, since you mention Kusajishi-fukutaichou I was hoping I could ask you a few questions." Her eyes left his for a moment to follow her hand as it glided quickly once again over the board and repositioned one of her white marble carvings to her liking. When the deep blue eyes returned to the tempered brown both pairs were cold and serious.

"They're not about how best to sedate the brat, are they?" Kenpachi joked with a voice void of humour and the negative shake of the head reply suggested none was found. "Okay," he answered, "just stop being so damn polite with the titles, it's annoyin'." Retsu nodded her affirmation to the request. "What's botherin' ya?" He asked after a moment's pause, during which he made his next move.

"What is Yachiru to you?" The question placed all of Kenpachi's attention on the wise healer. Not one person had ever dared ask him that, as if it were an unwritten certainty. To him it definitely was.

"My daughter."

"So you know the girl views you her as her father?" Retsu asked, suddenly adding a new level to the reiatsu she was releasing, putting further weight on her question. Kenpachi nodded, meeting her with his own reiatsu, inwardly relishing the challenge from the usually perfectly restrained woman. "Then why do you pursue death with such dedication?"

"I don't."

"Then explain your actions today. Explain your desire to seek out battle. Explain the advantages you give your opponents to end your life." The reiatsu the two captains were emitting was increasing exponentially. Their game's pieces began to shake under the pressure of spirit particles, both barely aware that they were still playing as they spoke. Kenpachi was even certain that he heard the sound of several shinigami fainting, while Retsu knew she was making more work for herself later in the day, a price she was willing to pay.

"Two reasons for all three. One; instinct. Two; it's fun."

"And what would become of your daughter if you died? Has she anyone else to care for her? Or to love?" Retsu's voice was finally beginning to lose a tiny speck of composure, while Kenpachi was enjoying the 'argument', this was the first time he'd seen her lose that perfect image she wore. He liked it.

"The brat's tough enough to look after herself. Ikkaku and Yumichika at least, and without me around she'd find a boy a hell of a lot quicker." Deep blue flickered with a flash of red for a spilt second and a grin spread across his face instantly. "Since when did she become your highest concern?"

"The moment I had to look into her crying eyes and promise her you would live, a promise I wasn't sure I could keep." Retsu answered breaking eye contact, guilt thick in her voice, wiping the grin from his face. "Can you imagine how I felt when I basically lied to her?"

"What...did she say?"

"You were unconscious for six hours...She told me everything. How you found her, named her, raised her and saved her from hell." Retsu's resolve of a strong and contained image was clearly breaking in this knowledge, it seemed unreal to Kenpachi and it felt no more real to her.

Retsu for centuries now had never shown anyone her inner feelings, let alone Kenpachi, and she was one of the oldest, wisest and strongest in Seireitei. Yet her will to hold herself together was being undone by the story of a brute and a child. Not because she could truly relate to their story or relationship, but because she knew what it was to suffer. She hated to see suffering in any form, whether it be physical injury or personal loss. That was why she had become a healer.

"_KEN-CHAN! Ken-chan wake up! You won! You won, you have to wake up!"_

"She said someit else, didn't she?" Kenpachi interrupted, peering at Retsu through loose hair from across the no longer shaking board. Commonly his rustic brown eyes either contained boredom or excitement but now they only showed worry.

"_Braid-lady...please save Ken-chan! I don't care how… I don't have anyone else... please, please... PLEASE SAVE KEN-CHAN!"_

"Check-mate." Retsu said tearfully, causing a stupefied look to cross Kenpachi's face as he looked at the board. Sure enough the black king was cornered by a white rook, bishop and knight. "As for my prize," she continued wiping her eyes once and reforming her demeanour, "I want you to allow me to fulfil a request Yachiru asked of me."

"_Thank you, Braid-lady ***sniff***...I'd have lost Ken-chan ***sniff***, my daddy, ages ago if you didn't heal him."_

"Huh, sure," Kenpachi replied, "what?"

"_WAIT! That's it! Braid-lady, would you be my mummy, pleeaase?"_

"I hope we can play chess again soon, Kenpachi."

--

A/N: It's by no means perfect, and probably OOC. Hope it was adequate. Written for two reasons: 1. Date, 2. To get me out of writer's block. Shogi is game similar to chess played in Japan, I've no idea why I wouldn't allow myself to say chess till the end. Please ask Q's, review/flame.


	2. Names

**Names**

"Can't you talk?" The sitting giant asked the ragged sword held in his hand, feeling like a complete idiot for talking to an object, but that was supposed to be the problem. To him it was just a sword. "Or, won't you talk?"

"I assure you Zaraki-taichou," a soft feminine voice answered, "it is talking." If Kenpachi hadn't recognised the voice he would have probably thought it was that of the blade he'd been trying to hear. However, he saved himself the error. "I'm sorry to say it is you who can not hear it."

"Where'd you come from Unohana?" Kenpachi replied, turning to glance over his shoulder at the petite woman standing in the room behind him. His stare wasn't surprised, embarrassed, or even curious. He just looked at her in a bored and dismissive fashion, ready to forget her at a moment's notice. Unohana Retsu did not allow such a rude acknowledgement to phase her composure for even a second and answered him.

"I am simply making my nightly rounds before resigning for the day. I left yourself till last knowing that you are my only patient to remain awake, when able, after I announce lights out." The unmoveable polite smile, one of only two looks Kenpachi had ever seen cross her face, was present on her features.

He turned away in annoyance to look forward again at the small garden of the forth division patient wing. It was nothing special; grass, a few daffodils and a small pond decorated with only two water lilies. All this was surrounded by wooden walkways or balconies of the division building on four sides of the small square garden. Nothing special, but even Zaraki Kenpachi had to say it was 'pretty' when the moon made the pond sparkle as it did now.

"I wouldn't be here if you just let me go, woman." Kenpachi shot back after a slight pause, knowing the reaction it would cause and revelled in the reiatsu the woman released to intimidate him.

"That simply would not do, Zaraki-taichou." The healer's tone now had an added element of dark humour alongside the massive increase in force. This caused Kenpachi to grin at the idea she was knowingly trying in vain to frighten him, Retsu certainly had a sense of humour. "You're injuries have not healed and I will not allow you to leave simply to aggravate them."

"Che." The berserker like man spat in immature disgust, losing his grin in the knowledge that even if he wasn't scared of her, he could never defy her. "Freakin' pointless."

Retsu hummed in amusement, '_Such a spoiled brat sometimes_,' she thought smiling inwardly. Moving across the room, the wise captain reigned in her reiatsu to return to her common demeanour and took a seat next to the right of her fellow captain.

Kenpachi didn't know how to react to the gesture and so didn't react at all. He merely raised his sword to once again stare at the nameless blade. "Why do you seek its name now, after so many years, Zaraki-taichou?" Retsu asked politely as possible, throwing off his concentration.

"I want to get stronger," Kenpachi answered firmly.

Retsu sighed at his predictable answer, surely there had to be more to this man that he would allow others beyond his daughter to see. "If that is your only answer then I'm afraid its voice will continue to allude you." Her face saddened at the notion.

"It isn't." Retsu actually felt a childish grin begin to creep onto her face before holding it in line to her common smile. "Strength's always gonna be my main reason. Can't change that and I don't wanna change that either." She nodded her approval at Kenpachi's words, if the man's motivations were to change it would feel more unnatural than seeing water flow uphill.

The change in his tone was a clear tell to Retsu that the man was now talking to her as a respected pier rather than his assigned healer, to which she chose to respond in kind. "Then why do you desire that strength? And what other reasons do you have?"

"To fight." Kenpachi answered instinctively. "Fightin' 's too damn fun," he continued, tightening his grip on the sword's hilt, "I wanna fight Ichigo again." The memories rushed back, and his demon smile grew once again, as the images flashed across his blade. "Ikkaku too, and any new guy who wants to say they're strong."

"I would hope your next duel with Madarame-sama is at least a few decades away." Retsu interjected remembering the reason for warrior captain's current stay in her division."The wounds you gave him today are among his worst, but I guess I know better than to hope for such a reality." She let out a sigh at the thought of more inevitable suffering that she had no chance of preventing, that she would be reduced to simply being the cure once again.

"Ikkaku's the one you oughtta talk to about that." Kenpachi said, noticing the forlorn sound that escaped the healer's lips, turning his face to her. "If you told him he wasn't allowed to fight me anymore he'd never question you. He's terrified of you like the rest of my squad, 'cept Yachiru 'course."

"Of course," Retsu breathed out with a content smile,"but that raises several more questions Zaraki-taichou." She finished looking to the moon taking a brief solace in its bright simplicity.

"Ask 'em I'm stuck 'ere, remember." He encouraged.

"I would prefer that you answer my second question before I ask anymore." Retsu stated, turning her eyes back to her patient. Both of the man's often maniacal brown eyes were waiting for her deep blue orbs, filled with conviction.

"It hurts."

"What?" She asked slightly confused and much more intrigued.

"Not having a name." He clarified, a feeling akin to guilt thick in his voice. Before continuing Kenpachi stared into his blade once more, now reliving the memories of a nameless monster. There was a sudden emotional tug on his chest at the idea that his blade, the one thing that had remained a constant throughout his time in Rukongai from beginning to end, still suffered as he had because of him. "People call Zaraki 'the beginning of hell', the place Soul Society joins with the Netherworld."

He paused.

"I am familiar with such stories." Retsu stated, hoping for him to finish his point.

"Just stories." Was the reply, to which she nodded in agreement. The scarred man then placed the likewise sword on the wooden floor of the balcony with an air respect. Retsu followed every minute detail of the action out of the corner of her eye:

The single bead of sweat on his brow, the relaxed... no, gentle grip of calloused skin on the hilt, how he placed the sword exactly parallel to his crossed legs, how his eyes shut in what she guessed was an unsaid apology as he let the zanpaktou rest on the floor.

"Stories told by weaklings who don't have the guts to imagine hell, let alone live in it, but they always base it on someit that's true." Kenpachi said, lying down and uncrossing his legs. As he stared upward into the lunar shine a comfortable smile, different to his usual blood thirsty grin, formed upon his face. "Ha, I really did think the moon was red for weeks after I first came to Soul Society."

"I'm afraid that is not the explanation I hoped for." Retsu interjected carefully, not letting her discomfort for the scene he was describing be known.

"In that place, the one thing people have to remind 'em they're not in hell is a name." Kenpachi words and tone evoked a gasp from the wise mage. "Two ways o' living. Kill or be killed for those with a sword, and waitin' for death for those who don't." He paused as he saw the countless blade wielding idiots he witnessed lose their humanity in Zaraki across the stars. "The guys with swords go crazy from the amount o' blood they see. The only thing they can say after killing is 'I'm some bastard who just killed these other bastards! Fear me for it!'. Their name becomes what they fight for, 'cos it's the only thing they know that's theirs. It lets 'em justify every kill. I never had that."

"May I ask what you did have?"

"A sword." He answered simply. "I became that monster they all refused to be. I had no reason to fight or kill...I just did 'cos it made me feel alive. No one ever tries to talk to someone without a name but it don't actually matter in a fight." The content smile widened as he gazed into the dark heavens of the night, reliving the first time he'd felt like someone rather than a thing. "It matters before and after, but not in it. So when the bastards saw I had a sword they'd fight me to win some praise for their names. That was when I felt alive... _real_... when they tried to kill me, 'cos me not havin' a name didn't matter. They fought me 'cos I was alive and that made the instinct to keep myself breathin' mean something."

Retsu was amazed at his words, but saddened for how he easily spoke of such things. "A name is not what makes someone alive."

"I know Retsu," Kenpachi laughed, "but that's what it felt like 'cos that high would die away with my opponents. I'd become that nameless thing... that monster...I'd become 'The Demon of Zaraki'." The warrior captain actually felt a tear form in his eye at that; it made him laugh harder. This did not go unnoticed by the woman beside him. "That hurt. No matter what I did in battle, it never earned me anythin' outside it. I never got a name from it."

"So why did you not name yourself then, as you did later when you named Yachiru?" Retsu asked with considerable wonder, allowing the use of first names into her speech. She shifted her body so that she was both closer and facing him properly, so that she no longer had to turn her head. The brown eyes were lost in the stars and hers joined them for a moment before settling back on his face.

"It felt pointless," Kenpachi said with the loss of his smile, "people knew me as a demon and I figured they'd never let me have a name other than that."

"What changed?" Retsu pried further hoping he would allow her more, it seemed he was in a generous mood tonight.

"Yachiru." He whispered the name mournfully provoking a confused sound from the medical expert. "Not the brat. The woman I named her for... she showed me that someit gained in battle can last outside it." As he said these words his left hand subconsciously raised and ran down the scar that passed over his left eye. However, he'd finally reached his limit with the questioning, he was surprised he'd ranted on this long. "That's for a different time, all right?"

"Of course," Retsu sighed, "I shall wait for that time then. However, I am quite concerned by your words. It has been four centuries since my last visit to Zaraki. Perhaps it is time to change that if the nature of everyday events is still as morbid as it was then." She finished with audible distaste in her voice. As she looked upon Kenpachi's lain figure a disheartened frown decorated her face, '_Such suffering and yet I am not even the cure,_' she thought sadly, '_Maybe one day I will change that by fulfilling Yachiru's request properly_.' That thought didn't seem as absurd as she had expected.

Standing Retsu slipped off her captain's haori, folded it neatly and quietly removed Minazuki's strap from her shoulder. She did this knowing perfectly well what was to be said next.

"Four cen..tur..ies." Kenpachi repeated carefully knowing this to be a delicate subject for most women, and although that usually wouldn't cause him concern, he also knew Unohana Retsu wasn't _most_ women. "Retsu, people have aged worse over a few months than you do over 'centuries'," he inadvertently complimented, "I knew you were ol-ngh!" He was cut short when the end of a sword's sheath was rammed into his bandaged abdomen, winding him. The hit forced him to raise half way to a sitting position, clutching his stomach in pain.

"What do you know Ken..pa..chi?" Retsu taunted, her dark humour returning with full force, smiling her polite smile. Moving her face to within inches of Kenpachi's, she enjoyed the mixture of confusion, fear and pain she found there. She raised Minazuki's sheath from his gut slowly and then, in the same motion, quickly leaned down and placed her haori below his head, as a makeshift pillow, before it touched the floor again.

Kenpachi glared up at the mage in a state of paralysed shock, with more than a little anger thrown in, it was as if the gut shot had immobilised him. He watched with difficulty, due to his position, as Retsu walked back into his room, collected his own torn haori, and then walked back out to place it over him as a duvet. All the time void of any ability to move.

"What the hell, woman!?" Kenpachi roared, from what might as well have been a foetal position. Trying in vain to get up and at least try to be intimidating, he was only to raise himself enough to rest on his right elbow.

"That will have to do for you sleeping arrangements for tonight Zaraki-taichou." Retsu stated clinically as she moved to his feet and picked up his zanpaktou in her right hand, Minazuki still in her left. She examined it with a respectful eye and carefully traced her left index along the sharp edge of the sword. "Rough around the edges," she commented just as the rough metal sliced her skin, "but sharp enough to cut diamond."

Kenpachi stared in surprise as a droplet of the medic's blood was allowed to trickle down his zanpaktou by the said woman. Then she did something that nearly made his eyes pop out.

As the crimson liquid reached half way to hilt Retsu raised the edge to her mouth and licked her blood from the blade in one smooth motion. Her tongue completely unharmed by the action. "And gentle as a kitten when necessary." She looked down at the shocked berserker with something in his eyes akin to hunger mixed in with predictable fear of the unknown. She placed the sword by his side and moved her face _very_ close to his once again.

Kenpachi couldn't help the reaction he was getting from the woman's actions, he wasn't going to complain but it just seemed so unreal. This fact added to his reaction. "Retsu?" He muttered in confusion, and what he knew was lust.

"Kenpachi," she answered, her voice far from the that of the polite nurse she was normally, "I can not name your sword. Nor would I try to. For, as you said, a simple noun can mean the cure of so much pain. I can only wish it was my place to help you. Just remember that a shingami's zanpaktou is an extension of their spirit, one way to think of it's name is that it is your real name."

"Then what's your real name Retsu?" He asked with a heavy breathes, whilst she remained perfectly calm despite her sultry tone.

"Minazuki; purify the flesh," Retsu felt herself inch closer to scarred sculpture just in front of her. The temptation to focus on his lips was great but she over came it and leaned her head to the side to whisper in his ear, instead she gave into another, " but I am anything but pure. Please call me Kijo if not Retsu." She teased him with a wicked a smile she had not shown any man in years, but she knew she was beginning to enjoy this game a little too much.

"You're a terrible tease, Kijo." Kenpachi played along, knowing it was a game but loving every second even more than he did fighting, '_Ha, she should smile like that more often. Maybe this is what being alive truly feels like._' "Would my name be Oni?"

"Of course not," Retsu scolded, "Han'eiyuu seems more appropriate for our story, wouldn't you agree?" She moved head back to have ocean meet the earth for one more brief moment and then kissed Kenpachi on the cheek lightly. "Rest now, please Kenpachi." She pleaded with a small smile, returning her common demeanour, and standing back to her full height.

"Alright, whatever you say Retsu, your the boss." Kenpachi complied, a little disappointed but satisfied with what had just transpired. He lowered himself back to lying down and looked back to the stars. Memories of the past no longer playing out across the sky, now it was visions of a future that he would see that _evil_ smile again.

"I shall return to ensure you use your proper bed if it rains." The 'boss', she had to laugh inwardly at the word, assured her patient before shouldering Minazuki's strap once again. Retsu walked back through the room, leaving the balcony door open for him, and slid opened the door to the main corridor. "I hope that your swords call reaches your ears soon." Retsu finished as she closed the door once more.

"If what just happened wouldn't happen again..." the 11th captain muttered, "I kinda don't."

"I assure you," the retreating voice of the 4th captain called through the door, "it will happen again regardless."

Kenpachi laughed until his sides hurt and then settled on chuckling himself to sleep in the peaceful night air.

–

**Translations**:

**Kijo** – demoness

**Oni **– demon

**Han'eiyuu** - antihero

---

A/N: So I decided to listen SethKnight-Galen and make this into some kind of running story. No idea how long it'll be or if they'll be in sequence or related at all. So like in the new summary it's a series of one shots about Zaraki Kenpachi and Unohana Retsu. Sorry if OOC and the POV is a bit sparodic (sp?). Please read & review/flame and ask Q's because I do appreciate it.


	3. Family

**Family**

Perfectly smooth grey stone, probably built by some mass of eager starry eyed recruits trying to suck up to the old man and his first set of lackeys.

They can avoid me here, so they do, like the plague.

An iron gate in the middle of thirty feet high slabs of lime coloured stone descending from on high. Someone designed them to frighten the hordes of cowards outside and to help the cowards inside feel safe.

"Pointless," I mutter. The giant at the gate side visibly trembles but holds his stature until I turn the corner.

Fine quality streets, shops and houses filled with fine cultured and well spoken people. The rich lavishing themselves in endless luxury, only limited by the imaginations of those who want their money. All of them weaving their way from one place to another in a seamless cycle of 'society' trying to give themselves an order to live by so that they might have a purpose they can recognise.

They turn their pathetic and snobby eyes to the ground or sky, hoping to not attract my attention.

An exception, my doctor with a basket of freshly picked herbs on her arm, greets me, her smile warm. I nod in return as I walk past unwilling to talk to her, her comfort is something I don't want today. In fact it's part of why I'm making this visit. Yet, she adds a polite goodbye to my back, there's enough of a sad tone to make me feel guilt. I shake away the unfamiliar emotion.

Flawless asphalt roads giving way to rough pebbled dirt tracks that crunch beneath the bare feet of users, leaving its mark on each sole. Market stalls with traders, whom might sell with the thoughts of their wallets at heart, but hold the belief in an honest deal a close second. Their custom, and fellow locals, with the same naïve nature; not one blade among them.

They know the code fear equals respect and bow their head. It's just as pathetic, but they can't afford the arrogance of those before.

The track begins to fill with things left by people, rather than people themselves, everything from rotten food to horse dung. Gutters, more like stream sized sewers, run along either side. A rancid smell tickles my nostrils reminding me of the taste of home. Huts of shrapnel rise in place of houses. Happy children with toys turn into devious streets urchins eyeing the nearest pocket or unguarded stall. Polite smiles become the intimidating glares of muggers and plea filled stares of beggars.

They stare expectantly. Most praying that I will grant their wish for freedom, be it by taking them from their world or removing them from mine. Others want a shot, they want the glory others have given me. These people think they live in hell, but even as I walk by they speak about my past and the stories attached to where it began.

"Idiots." I grumble to myself. There's an eager group of punks in ear shot, one's even got his own zanpaktou. He thinks he's seen his chance, goes for my neck screaming out my name like he knows me and his like I want to know him. I put my hand to his blade, it breaks on my palm, the pieces shine in the midday sun. With the same hand, I push upward into his face grabbing his head, I force a shard into his cheek. He screams again, now in pain. I hold him there for several minutes as he cries out for his friends, none come to his aid, then I drop him and walk on. I give him no words like I've done for good fighters, this one's not even worth knowing.

Grass is a cooling change to the ground below as nature overcomes the efforts of desperate souls. A forest towers over and engulfs the area, only the odd long cabin or wooden hut held together by mud poking through the undergrowth.

This is where my life began again; where I was named, where I named another. Kusajishi: the gateway to hell, or the gateway to Soul Society, depending on which way you go through. I halt my stride for one moment, draw my sword and carve a single word in the bark of the nearest tree. I continue walking, ignoring the silent thugs who follow.

The nearby ancient plants fall, uproot, and splinter with the influence of chaos that lies beyond this place, the canopy remains to block up nearly all the hope sunshine brings the masses. Homes rise amidst the remains, more flimsy than the pile of leaves stacked outside the doors. The tenants no longer give a care to their lives. They know hell is just down the blood stained path, where else could the blood come from. Most don't need food to keep themselves going and many who do just let what food they find rot before they realise that they still fear death.

A child laughs at the jingle of the bells in my hair, it catches my eye. She's no older than the kid I found at that tree way back when, the one that giggled in a puddle of blood at a monster.

The nostalgia distracts me long enough for the stalkers to notice, they rush me from every angle, eleven in all. These idiots yell their own names and assume all know mine, I spike my reiatsu to shut them up. Eleven swords clatter on the ground alongside twenty bodies, the other nine belonging to passive witnesses. I move on, the bells in my hair disrupting the tense silence.

I hear the girl cry. Surprised she's wasn't among my unintended victims, I stare at her through my uncovered eye. Her tears faulter and she laughs again when the bells jingle as I turn my head to her. I walk up to the girl, her giggles battle her fear with each step I take, when I stop inches in front of her she's smiling but her eyes are shining.

"Ya like these?" I ask, pointing at the bells, she nods. Lowering my hand I reach into my sleeve and take out the two spares I carry just in case. I kneel down, holding them out to her, but she flinches away. "Ya scared o' me?" I ask, eye to eyes, it takes a little longer but eventually she shakes her head in a no. "Then take 'em." Her little hand reaches over mine tentatively, like it'd snap shut and take her hand at any sudden movement. However, something about the move holds my attention. Then in a lightening move she snatches the tiny metal charms from my palm without a single sound .

"Th-h-than-k yo-u," her speech laboured by lack of practise, especially when saying that. I stare at her long and hard, mulling over I should deal with this now. I know what my brat would tell me to do if I hadn't left her to chew on her favoured scalp, and I know how happy she'd be to have another kid to play with. '_But they'll drive me up the wall!_' My mind whines.

"Ya ever hungry?" Again she nods. After rummaging through my other sleeve I hand her an apple, she grabs it with new confidence and munches it down greedily. I chuckle at the sight, "_Shinigami only eat apples,_" my partner said once. "Have a name?" I ask, feeling like this is turning into an interview.

"Un." She nods a third time between bites, almost oblivious to me, savouring every last bit of the green fruit. Good thing too, because I spend the next few minutes laughing my ass off at the lack of fear in her, just like my daughter. Her eyes turn to me confused, after she's eaten down to the pits of course.

"Don't matter," I shrug off the stare and walk away along my original path, "I'll be back in a bit to find out ya name and tell ya mine. Enjoy the bells!" She shouts a 'bye-bye', her gift ringing in her hand. She can't promise to stay but I know she will. I lift up one of the would be thugs as he starts to come round, figuring since he's the first, he's the strongest of 'em. I tell him the deal; he makes sure the kid stays safe and I don't remove everything I can without killing him. He takes the deal, wise choice.

Blood stains move backwards into trickles, these join to make flows, which merge to form streams. All coalescing on a single bloody mass of rotting flesh and bone and that's only the first of many along this road. Each corpse acting like a ratio counter for how close Zaraki is now.

Grass dies beneath my feet in the presence of such dejection, the ground desolate and useless. The smell of the gutters changes from rancid to something beyond the smells of vomit, crap and piss. A morbid scent now excites my nose and I know I am home. The scent is death.

My legend is still strong here clearly. All shun away in fear. Defenseless and dying, the majority hide fast like I only left yesterday for a stroll. The new mutts on the block more than happy to let the old dog back in the yard for the short term. I have no interest in live cowards, dead cowards or might as well be dead cowards. I move through unhindered with my end destination solely on my mind.

It's hard to believe that for someone like me there can exist a scene so beautiful, let alone exist in a hell like Zaraki, but it does.

Ruined skeletons of a makeshift neighbourhood litter the torn remains of a nature that once existed here. The clearing is at least a mile across, parting the overgrowth, finally letting the sun cast its spell on the ground below. The land rises and fall in a pattern of chaos that only violence can create and yet it's green with life, I can even hear a brook bubbling in what should be a dead silence It's not something I often find myself enjoying, but it almost made me want to say something poetic, almost.

I stride into this oasis comparing it to the eye of a storm in my head; that's usually the part I find boring, but not today. By the look of it no one has died on this soil since its carving and life, unlike anywhere else in Zaraki, is beginning to rise from the ashes. I actually smile as I walk over the grass and moss covered rubble. The smell is pleasant now, no flowers yet in this little haven, but the green plant life does enough.

A ways from the exact centre of this eden I find my journey's end. A zanpaktou buried half way to the hilt in a toppled giant apple tree. It's no different from the standard katana zanpaktou wielded by easily frightened cadets at the academy, a seven pointed star hilt and sky blue handle the two unique features.

Why is it so important that I'd come all this way just to look at it? I don't know myself. I had never even thought of coming back before yesterday. Another unfamiliar feeling had crept into my chest and brought about the need to visit this place, this nameless sword, because it made me remember the first and last time I felt it.

When I put the katana there, mere feet from where I stand now, I died and that had been the end of the sensation's first hold on me. It hurt, first time I ever felt a tear on my cheek, but I'd kept on existing, just like the times before I met its wielder, before I ever knew that feeling. I still wear its mark on my face but now I stare at the blade like its meaningless to me, because I don't know how to react.

Why did I come all this way just to look at it!

"Say her name." A doctor says next to me.

My reactions come in millions per second. Kill, ignore, cry, scream, yell, crush, run, embrace, kiss, fall, roar, beat, hug, beg, screw. In the end I accept, "Yachiru."

That one word name sets me off. I fall to my knees and cry, the tears flood my eyepatch so I tear it away. My action unleashes the torrent that the tiny monster seals away; the plateau means nothing to me, so I carry on letting the tears fall without a care.

However, the being next to me does care; she cares for all life that exists around her, mine included. With her immense supply of reiatsu she seals my own, not letting a single blade of grass fall victim to its assaults. The symbolism of how she achieves this would be obvious to any spectator, but there aren't any. She encircles my neck with her arms and cradles my head in her delicate hands. Her chin rests in my hairline the occasional soothing whisper passes her soft lips to try and stop the downpour. Her aura encases me like a skin tight cage. I don't object. I return the embrace, that's all I can do.

That same feeling runs through me again, I still don't know it. I think back and remember calling it 'admiration' once, that's part of it for sure, but nowhere near it all. I gaze at the zanpaktou again, past the flower scented hair of my doctor, now a remnant of its former glory. That glory had been in the hand of my partner; the woman who gave my life purpose. A gift I honoured in naming my daughter, nowhere close to a fair trade, but I know she would have thanked me for it anyway.

"You loved her, didn't you?" A voice flows gently into my ear. The question throws me off guard with the realisation it brings and I finally stop crying.

"Yes," I answer, "so much I forgot its name."

"Why did you come here Kenpachi?" She asks, knowing I need to say it.

"'Cos I felt it again, Retsu, and..." I lose my momentum but my ever patient doctor waits, "remembered it an' I had to see the only person I've loved before." I finish with my eyes never leaving the blade in front of us.

I lower my arms from her back. She accepts the hug is over and releases me from her warmth slowly as to ensure my reiatsu causes no damage, I miss it the instant she's done. She kneels at my side me, also facing my first love's zanpaktou, and waits. I bow my head to the grass and let the tears fall again. "Please," I beg, "forgive me Yachiru. I let meself forget what we were, never how we felt, but that's no excuse. I'm sorry, please forgive me."

A sudden breeze rings the bells on my spiked hair, I don't take it as a given sign and keep my head bowed. I lean back to a kneeling position after a good ten minutes, ignoring the crick in my back. I turn to the woman beside me. She shows me something I am truly unfamiliar with; her face. There's no polite masking smile or restrained frown of sadness or anger. Her ocean blue eyes are hurt but overjoyed as she gazes at me almost in a daze. An added longing makes the dreaminess contagious and I zone out, lost in the endless sea of the shining orbs.

The bells jingle again in another rush of wind. We open our eyes to find ourselves literally lip-locked and tongue-tied, each of us with a new memory to cherish. I cup her cheek in my hand and revel in the touch as much as she seems too. Our lips part with no rush, we even hold them close in the anticipation of more, but we grin and laugh instead.

Standing first, I smile at the zanpaktou one last time. '_I'll be back soon, Yachiru_,' I promise. '_I'll bring me dau-..._' I look over to my new love before turning back, '_our family next time._'

Taking my hand in hers my love begins our walk back to Seireitei. "Oi, Retsu?" I speak up as we leave the clearing, she hums in reply. "Ya see me talk to that kid earlier?"

"Un. She impressed me."

"Me too." I take a deep breath. "Ya think Yachiru'd like a lil' sister?"

* * *

A/N: Guess who's back, back again. Okay, here's some proof that these are more like one shots 'cos these feels like a late chapter to me since I've finally accepted having Kenpachi do and feel something sappy. I'll try to focus on Retsu next time since I've now travelled into easily proven wrong fanficiton histories with this. The idea is that Kenpachi it's the day after Kenpachi has felt love for Retsu and it's reminded him of how he felt for the first Yachiru, but 'cos it's been so long and it was so painful when she died he's forgotten that the feeling is indeed love. I hope the narrative was a good choice as well as describing both the areas and the people in odd ways. The lack of names in the narrative is deliberate to represent who people are to Kenpachi in particular both Yachirus and Retsu, the rarity in the dialogue is mainly due to lack of dialogue but also for significance. Please ask any Q's and, as always, please read & review/flame.

Biscuit - Thank you.


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